udiced heart, and I should simply expire
if your happiness, which is bound up in her, were threatened by
any meddling of mine.

"Jim Wayward and I discuss the matter every day; I don't know
what he thinks--he's so obstinate some days--and sometimes he is
irritable when Gussie Vetchen and Cuyp talk _too_ inanely--bless
their hearts! I really don't know what I shall do with James
Wayward. What would you suggest?"

On the heels of this letter went another.

"Garry, dear, read this and then make up your mind whether to
come here or not.

"This morning I was sitting on the Cardrosses' terrace knitting a
red four-in-hand for Mr. Wayward--he is _too_ snuffy in his
browns and grays!--and Mrs. Cardross was knitting one for
Neville, and Cecile was knitting one for Heaven knows who, and
Shiela, swinging her polo-mallet, sat waiting for her pony--the
cunning little thing in her boots and breeches!--I mean the girl,
not the pony, dear--Oh, my, I'm getting involved and you're
hurrying through this scrawl perfectly furious, trying to find
out what I'm talking about.

"Well, then; I forgot for a moment that Shiela was there within
ear-shot; and eyes on my knitting, I began talking about you to
Mrs. Cardross; and I had been gossiping away quite innocently for
almost a minute when I chanced to look up and notice the peculiar
expressions of Mrs. Cardross and Cecile. They weren't looking at
me; they were watching Shiela, who had slipped down from the
parapet where she had been perched and now stood beside my chair
listening.

"I hesitated, faltered, but did not make the mistake of stopping
or changing the subject, but went on gaily telling about your
work on the new Long Island park system.

"And as long as I talked she remained motionless beside me. They
brought around her pony--a new one--but she did not stir.

"Her mother and sister continued their knitting, asking questions
about you now and then, apparently taking no notice of her. My
monologue in praise of you became a triangular discussion; and
all the while the pony was cutting up the marl drive with
impatience, and Shiela never stirred.

"Then Cecile said to me quite naturally: 'I wish Garry were
here.' And, looking up at Shiela, she added: 'Don't you?'

"For a second or two there was absolute silence; and then Shiela
said to me:

"'Does he kno